Houseoftysedo

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‎📖 The Girl Named Somto
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‎Episode 1 – “Arrival”
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‎The car smelled like leather and air freshener — nothing like home!

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‎Somto sat stiffly in the back seat, her nylon bag clutched tightly to her chest. She had barely spoken since the man Juliet sent picked her up from the park. He said little too — just that “Madam no like noise” and “You go dey alright.”
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‎She wasn’t sure what “alright” meant anymore.
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‎They pulled into a street lined with tall gates and trimmed flowers. The houses looked like they were built for kings. Then, they stopped in front of one with a black gate.
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‎Somto’s hands trembled as the gate creaked open. The compound sparkled — tiles so clean she could see the sky in them. A maid in uniform was watering flowers. The driver gave her a nod and unloaded Somto’s bag.
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‎Madam Juliet came out of the house slowly, sunglasses on her face, a phone pressed to her ear. She didn’t smile.
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‎She didn’t even greet Somto.
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‎She ended the call abruptly.
‎“You’re the girl, right?”
‎“Yes ma,” Somto replied quietly.
‎“Hm. Come inside.”
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‎No welcome. No water. No kind word.
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‎Inside, the house was another world. Marble floors. Golden furniture. Chandeliers that glittered like rain. Somto stopped to admire the ceiling.
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‎Madam snapped her fingers. “Eyes front. You’ve never seen light before?”
‎“Sorry ma,” Somto said, lowering her gaze.
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‎She followed Juliet through the house, clutching her old bag as if it could protect her.
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‎“You’ll work here. Clean, wash, cook — everything. You eat after everyone. You speak only when spoken to. This is not your father’s house, so don’t come here and be forming pity story. Do you understand me?”
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‎“Yes ma.”
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‎“Your room is outside — back of the house. That small place with the iron door. That’s where all house girls sleep. That’s your space. You’ll wake by 5am. Your uniform will be given to you tomorrow.”
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‎Somto nodded, trying to remember everything.
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‎Then it began.
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‎She stepped into the living room with her shoes — not knowing they should be left at the door.
‎She touched the glass table with her dusty hands.
‎She said “thank you” when Juliet handed her a worn-out bedsheet — and Juliet hissed like she had been insulted.
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‎“Who trained you? You don’t even know how to behave in a proper house. God help me,” she muttered.
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‎Later that night, Somto found herself in the cramped room Juliet called “hers.” No fan. Just a mat on the floor and a single bucket.
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‎She sat down slowly. Everything ached — not from work, but from the weight of disappointment and confusion.
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‎She missed her mother already. Her brothers. Her old bed. Even the rooster that crowed at 4am.
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‎But most of all, she missed being seen.
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‎Here, she felt like a shadow.
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‎🔸 To be continued...


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BEHIND HER SMILE

EPISODE 1: THE SMILE EVERYONE ENVIES!

If perfection had a face, it was Amanda Daniels.

Pearl earrings. N**e heels. A silk blouse that hugged her body like a second skin. Her makeup was flawless, her posture regal, and that smile... oh, that smile—the one everyone envied.

From the outside, she was living the Lagos dream. Owner of The Luxe Atelier, the most sought-after boutique on the Island. Her Instagram was a curated gallery of success—luxury bags, brunch dates, designer fabrics, and motivational quotes about “manifesting abundance.”

But nobody knew that the smile was a costume. A carefully stitched mask to hide the truth.

As Amanda stood behind the boutique’s counter, handing over a custom dress to a regular client, her phone vibrated. She ignored it. It buzzed again. Then a third time—insistent.

Her heart skipped. She knew that rhythm. Only one person called like that.

She discreetly glanced at the screen. “PRIVATE NUMBER.”

Her fingers trembled slightly. She excused herself with a polite smile, ducked into the staff room, and answered.

“Hello.”

A deep voice slid through the line like cold metal. “Amanda... I see you’ve been ignoring me.”

Her throat tightened. “Chief, I told you. I’m done. I—”

“Done?” A low chuckle. “Amanda, Amanda... you don’t get to decide when this ends. You belong to me. Or have you forgotten the terms?”

Her eyes darted around the empty room as if the walls themselves were listening. “Please. Let’s not do this over the phone. I’ll come see you.”

Silence. A dangerous pause. Then—

“You have till midnight. Or I’ll pay your little shop a visit. And believe me, it won’t be pleasant.”

The line went dead.

Amanda stood there, her pulse roaring in her ears. She shut her eyes tight, inhaling sharply.

She thought she was free. She thought she could build a new life, put the past behind her. But it was crawling back, hungry, vengeful.

A soft knock startled her. “Madam Amanda? There’s someone asking for you.”

She quickly composed herself, smoothing her blouse, adjusting the corners of her lips into that perfect smile. “I’ll be right there.”

As she stepped out, her breath caught. Standing by the display rack was a tall man—broad shoulders, skin the color of burnt honey, an easy smile that reached his eyes.

When he saw her, he grinned. “I hope I’m not disturbing. I’ve heard a lot about this place... and the woman behind it.”

His gaze held hers a second too long. Gentle. Curious. Unafraid.

For a brief moment, Amanda forgot how to breathe.

Then her phone buzzed again. A text message this time. She glanced down.

“Midnight. Don’t be late.” Attached was a photo.

Her front door. Taken just five minutes ago.

Her blood turned to ice.

But she raised her head... and smiled.

🔥 TO BE CONTINUED…